When We Read, We Fancy

Our Infinite Obligations To God Do Not Fill Our Hearts Half As Much As A Petty Uneasiness Of Our Own; Nor His Infinite Perfections As Much As Our Smallest Wants.

To Those Who Know Thee Not, No Words Can Paint! And Those Who Know Thee, Know All Words Are Faint!

To Hint At A Fault Does More Mischief Than Speaking Out; For Whatever Is Left For The Imagination To Finish Will Not Fail To Be Overdone.

That Silence Is One Of The Great Arts Of Conversation Is Allowed By Cicero Himself, Who Says, There Is Not Only An Art, But Even An Eloquence In It

Nothing Raises The Price Of A Blessing Like Its Removal; Whereas It Was Its Continuance Which Should Have Taught Us Its Value. There Are Three Requisitions To The Proper Enjoyment Of Earthly Blessings,--a Thankful Reflection On The Goodness Of The Giver, A Deep Sense Of Our Unworthiness, A Recollection Of The Uncertainty Of Long Possessing Them. The First Would Make Us Grateful; The Second, Humble; And The Third, Moderate.